


Halley's Comet, or How He Fell

by fandom_over_family



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gay, Like probably really gay idk, M/M, So is John, and Mary's alive, but also some straightness, kind of kinky, nonshitty winchester parents, so that's nice, sometimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 01:27:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8646301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_over_family/pseuds/fandom_over_family
Summary: Dean Winchester, a scientist, has it all. A perfect job, a perfect girl, and a perfect life. But when he meets Castiel on the side of the road, everything starts to go downhill. His relationships are threatened, his job is on the line, and he starts to question everything.❝You're exactly like Halley's comet. Something entirely new and amazing, and I don't think there's a way I could be without you for a single second and not die a thousand times. ❞





	

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which one Castiel Novak appears suddenly, out of nowhere.

Abiogenesis, noun. The Emergence of life forms emerging from non-living chemical systems. In contrast with spontaneous generation, abiogenesis is not a process that biologists think continues in a particular environment, such as a planet or moon, once a living system has emerged.  
Dean shrugged his pressed white lab coat off of his shoulders and slung it over his arm. He kept his eyes trained on Lisa while she wrote one last note to the manager, her short, dark hair swaying and her fingers nimble.  
Finally, she turned to face Dean, and a smile stretched over her face.  
“You didn’t have to wait for me,” she sighed, catching up to him, her heels clacking on the shining blue tile floors.  
“Nonsense. Why wouldn’t I?” Dean questioned, offering his arm to Lisa. Nervously, she took it, and the two walked out of the Singer’s Medical Building together.   
The parking lot was dark and nearly empty, artificial street lamps casting sickly shadows onto Lisa’s car. He removed his arm from hers and opened the door of her car, watching as she slid in, and then he shut the door. She looked up to him through the open window.  
“Listen, Lisa. There’s a party at Garth’s this weekend, and I was wondering if you might want to come with me?” he asked. Lisa’s shimmering eyes opened wide, and she nodded, her chopped hair bouncing. She leaned towards the opened car window.  
“Of course, Dean. Of course I’ll come. Are you sure it’s the right scene for a girl like me?” she questioned. Dean smirked.  
“Only the best for you, Lisa,” Dean finished before blowing her a kiss and a wink and walking back towards his car. He watched her drive off before climbing into his own car and starting the engine. He pulled out of the parking lot and turned down the country road that led him to his house.   
He smiled to himself, thinking about Lisa. She was beautiful and perfect, not to mention hilarious. She’d been the receptionist at Singer’s since before Dean had started working there. It had been a constant, seeing her bright smile each morning. Eventually, he’d asked her on a date, and from there, it had been complete bliss. She’d met his parents and brother, and Sam had thought she was as nice as Dean thought she was amazing.  
He turned right, humming a made up tune to himself. Driving down country roads was his favorite. He liked the peacefulness of it all, especially at night. He liked the way the gravel sounded beneath the tires of his car and the way the pine trees smelled.   
“Stop!” someone called. Dean slammed his foot on the breaks, his body shooting forwards and his chest colliding with the steering wheel. He leaned back against the seat, taking deep breaths. Once he had caught his breath, he pushed the door open angrily and looked around. He didn’t see anyone, so he clambered back into his car, fuming.  
“Wait,” the voice came again, weaker this time. Dean, regretfully, opened his car door again. This time, he saw where the voice had come from. There was a man, maybe half of a foot shorter than him, in a suit and a trench coat, a blue tie done up backwards around his neck. He had a cut on his forehead, and blood was dripping down the left side of his face. His dark brown hair was ruffled, and he was pale.  
“Are you alright?” Dean asked, taking a few hesitant steps towards the man. He looked up to Dean and used the sleeve of his tan trench coat to wipe some blood from his jawline.  
“I’m Castiel,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Do you think you could give me a ride?”   
Dean raised his eyebrows. “Where?”  
Castiel gestured to the cut on his forehead. “The hospital, if it ain’t to much to ask.”  
Dean swallowed, but nodded. He pointed to his car.  
“Get in,” he sighed, walking back to the drivers side and slipping in. He waited until Castiel was seated before he started the engine again and turned the car around sharply. He pressed the gas a little harder, trying to get to the hospital a little bit quicker.  
“What happened to you?” Dean questioned. Castiel turned his head.  
“A run in with a few KKK members,” Castiel mumbled, dipping his head and pressing his sleeve against it. He seemed to be holding his breath, but Dean couldn’t figure out why?  
“What did they do to you?” Dean queried. Castiel pulled his sleeve back and stared at it in awe. It was stained dark red, and his head was still dripping. He looked even paler than he had before. He leaned his head against the window, his lids fluttering.  
“Hey,” Dean said sharply, reaching his arm across the car and hitting Castiel’s shoulder, hard.  
Castiel lifted his head up and squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again.  
“I don’t even know you. I shouldn’t be tellin’ you any of this,” he muttered, shaking his head.   
“I’m the one driving you to the hospital. You talk, or I stop this car and you die,” Dean grumbled. Castiel paled more, and Dean couldn’t tell if it was from his rapid blood loss or the threat.  
“I got a girl. Isa. She and I were just in the woods. I didn’t know-“  
“Whatever happened, it isn’t your fault. They’re bad people,” Dean assured him, keeping his eyes trained on the road ahead. The hospital was just one right turn away, and the roads were mostly empty. Dean heard Castiel sniffle, and he turned his head.  
“They was gonna burn her,” Castiel whispered. Dean pursed his lips and nodded.  
“But they didn’t, right?” he asked. Castiel nodded quickly.  
“No. There was only five, maybe ten. I told her to run, and she did.” He whipped his head back, looking out the rear window. “I should go back for her-“  
“Look, son. I get you love her, but you look like you’re about to die. So let me take you to the hospital, and then you can go find your Isa.”  
Castiel looked at him like he was insane, but he didn’t argue. Dean looked back to the road, resisting the urge to smirk. He pulled into the parking lot of the hospital and threw the door open, barely remembering to turn off the engine. Castiel opened the door, his hands shaking. He tried to stand, but tripped and caught himself on the door of Dean’s car. Dean rushed to help him, slinging an arm under Castiel’s and lifting him up, half-carrying him to the glass doors of the local hospital. The waiting room was nearly empty, but the one nurse who was standing by the door looked as if she was about to pass out when she saw Castiel’s condition.  
“Oh my,” she whispered, rushing to help Dean with Castiel. Without another word, she took the other boy from Dean, leaving him alone with a blood stained shoulder in the lobby of the hospital.  
He stood by the doors until another nurse came and took his jacket from him and ushered him into an uncomfortable plastic sheet. Reluctantly, he sat down and looked around him. There was a woman in a pencil skirt holding a baby, her kitten heels tapping impatiently on the white tile floors. There was a tall, lanky man watching the doors to the hospital rooms, his green eyes glazed with tears.  
The nurse who had sat him down was standing in front of him, looking down to his face.  
“Sir,” she said, sounding a little aggravated. “Sir.”  
Dean looked up to her, and she gave him a little smile.  
“Do you know what happened to your friend?” she questioned. Dean nodded and crossed his hands in his lap.  
“He was in the woods… hunting… and he tripped and, uh, hit his head on a rock,” Dean replied, hesitating. He knew that the people in this town didn’t take nicely to people who opposed the Klan, even if they didn’t necessarily agree with their methods.   
The nurse swallowed, averting her eyes from Dean’s stone face. She straightened her back and gave him one nod.  
“And what is his name?” she asked.   
“Castiel,” he answered. The nurse nodded and motioned for him to continue, but Dean shook his head.  
“I was on my way home when I found him on the side of the road, and I brought him here. He lost a lot of blood, though. It looked like he had been bleeding for a while before I picked him up,” Dean explained. The nurse nodded and patted his shoulder in some effort to console him. She walked away, and Dean fell back into the plastic chair. He looked around the crisp waiting room, glancing at the other people who were sitting still as stone in the uncomfortable chairs.  
There was a teenage girl, her hair pulled back into a ponytail and a sweater three times her size wrapped around her, her thin body shaking. There was an elderly man with a bald head and bushy gray caterpillars for eyebrows. He was chewing on his nails, or whatever was left of them. All of these people, Dean noted, seemed to have ways to cope with whatever was happening to the people they loved. He assumed he wasn’t acting like them because he didn’t know Castiel that well, which was true.  
He leaned his head against the edge of the chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him and letting his eyes flutter shut. It had been a long day at work, and finding Castiel had drained whatever energy he had left in him.  
He was shaken awake by the same nurse who had taken Castiel from him earlier. She was nervously pushing his shoulder with her manicured hand, her pale pink nails tapping the dried blood on his white dress shirt.  
“Sir,” she whispered. Dean yawned, rubbed his eyes, and turned his head to face her. The teenage girl was still sitting in the same chair, the big sweater sitting on the chair next to her. The woman with her baby was still there, but her baby was gone and she was pacing the length of the waiting room, her hands in her hair.  
“Yes?” he asked, sitting up straight and smoothing out his pants. The nurse straightened her back, keeping her eyes on his face.  
“Castiel will be alright. We asked if he had anyone to come pick him up, but he claimed the only person he had was an Isa Miller?” the nurse asked.  
“I can take him home, if that is alright with him,” Dean offered. The nurse nodded and hustled back through the doors to the rest of the hospital rooms. Dean watched the doors intently, waiting for the nurse to return. He didn’t know why he had offered to drive Castiel home. He was making it harder on himself. For all he knew, the man was a mass murderer who was making his whole story up and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. But, the likeliness of that was small. Mass murderers usually didn’t wait on country roads then not kill anyone there.  
The nurse returned with a pale-faced Castiel, his trench coat spilling over his arms and his suit still on. The nurse motioned for Dean to come to the front desk, so he stood and made his way to the desk with long strides.  
“We’ll need you to sign these papers, alright?” the nurse questioned. Dean nodded and took a pen from the pile on the desk, writing his name in all of the required blanks.  
“Alright-“ the nurse checked his signature. “Mister Winchester. Take good care of Castiel, will you? He’s a charmer.”  
Dean nodded and exited the hospital, a limping Castiel trailing behind him. He opened Castiel’s car door for him, then left him to shut it and walked around to his own side. Dean started the engine and pulled out of his parking space, then stopped. He turned to Castiel.  
“Where do you live?” Dean asked. Nervously, Castiel turned to face him.  
“Hours from here,” he told Dean, his face reddening. Dean leaned his forehead against the steering wheel.  
“You have to be kidding,” Dean muttered. Castiel shook his head and began to twiddle his thumbs.  
“I apologize… Mister Winchester. I-“  
Dean lifted his head and extended his hand to Castiel. “I’m Dean.”  
Hesitantly, Castiel shook Dean’s hand, and then dipped his head again, toying with the fabric of his trench coat.   
“My apologies, Dean Winchester. If you want, you can drop me off at the nearest train station and-“  
“Nonsense. You can stay at my house. I’ve got a brother, but he won’t bite,” Dean joked. Castiel eyed him, but put on a strained smile.  
Dean drove out of the parking lot, his eyes watching the road intently. Castiel was staring out of the window as well, his blue-grey eyes lidded. Dean took a left, and Castiel’s eyes shot open.  
“Stop!” he cried, sitting straight up in his seat. Dean didn’t slam the breaks, but he slowed the car to a stop and pulled it to the side of the road. Castiel, in all of his sickly glory, threw the car door open and tossed his trench coat onto the car seat. He slid out of the car and rushed towards a girl with braids wrapped around her head. She was wearing a mud-stained mustard yellow dress with a dusty rose bow. Castiel wrapped her in a hug before pulling her face into his hands and whispering something to her. He then glanced back at Dean, who nodded. If he was going to take Castiel to his house, why not bring what he assumed to be Castiel’s girlfriend.  
Castiel led the girl back to the car and opened the back door, helping her shaking body in. He closed the door and let himself into the passengers seat.  
“Dean, this is-“  
“Isa,” Dean said, turning his head back to look at the girl. She was pretty, her skin dark and smooth. Her hair was pinned tight against her head, and her dress looked to be hand-sown. If she had been wearing shoes before, they were no longer on her small feet.   
“Isa,” Castiel said hesitantly as Dean began drive again. The girl nodded her head. “This is Dean Winchester. He found me an took me to the hospital. He is kind enough to let me spend the night at his home.”  
Dean nodded and turned his head back to Isa. “You can stay too, if you don’t live close,” he offered. Isa swallowed and nodded.  
“That would be very kind of you, sir,” she mumbled. Dean smirked and turned his head back to the road.  
“Please. Call me Dean,” he requested. Isa nodded, averting her eyes to her bare feet. She swallowed and wrapped her arms around her.  
“Are you cold, Isa?” Castiel asked, his voice soft. Isa nodded, rubbing her hands against her arms trying to quell her goosebumps.   
“Here, take my coat-“  
“It’s bloody, Castiel. There’s a sweater under your seat,” Dean told him. Castiel shrugged and dropped the trench coat, reaching his hand under the seat and pulling out Lisa’s blue sweater. He examined it before handing it back to Isa, who pulled it over her head and arms.  
“Thank you, sir,” she said quietly. Dean smiled, keeping his eyes on the road. He took a left onto his road and pulled into his driveway. His dog was sitting patiently by the fern Sam insisted on keeping. Dean cut the engine and opened his door. The dog, a large german shepherd, rushed to Dean, placing his paw on his knee. Dean scratched behind the dogs ear.  
“Evening, Colonel,” he said, standing up and opening the door for Isa. She got out of the car and dipped her head, standing awkwardly and waiting for Castiel.  
Castiel walked around the car and slid his arm around Isa. He gave Dean a nod, and Dean led the two of them to the front door. He raised his hand to the wooden door and knocked five times. Footsteps could be heard from inside, and Sam opened the door. He was tall, much taller than Dean. He smiled at Dean, but frowned in confusion when he spotted Castiel and Isa.  
“Dean-“  
Dean took a step into the house. “It’s alright, Sammy. This is Castiel and his girl, Isa. I found Castiel, here, on the side of the road on my way home from work. He was pretty beat up, so I brought him to the hospital, and we ran into Isa here on our way back.”  
Sam clenched his jaw, and Dean gave him a warning look. Sam relaxed his face and smiled at the two.  
“Good to have you,” he sighed before dipping down to Dean’s height. “Dean, we need to talk.”  
Dean nodded and followed his younger brother into the kitchen where her leaned against the breakfast table.  
“What is it, Sammy?” Dean questioned. Sam took a deep breath in, brushing his long hair away from his face.  
“You can’t bring random people into our house,” he said, anger peering through his voice. Dean took a step back.  
“They’ll just be here for a night, Sammy. They live hours away from here, and I wasn’t about to drop them off or leave them somewhere,” Dean replied. Sam shook his head.  
“Do you understand how sketchy they sound? Hours away from home? What are they doing out here?” Sam questioned. Dean shrugged.  
“My guess is his girl lives out here, or they were visiting family. Whatever it was, they got themselves in the middle of a tiny Klan meeting,” Dean told his brother, leaning forwards. Sam paled.  
“You mean-?” Sam asked.  
Dean nodded, clarifying his words. “They cut Castiel pretty bad, and he was bleeding out. I couldn’t just let him bleed to death.”  
Sam took a deep breath in and nodded. “Fine, but you take them to the train station tomorrow morning before work,” Sam warned. He started to walk out of the kitchen.  
“I work tomorrow!” Dean cried. Sam turned around and shrugged.  
“Tell Lisa you’ll be late,” Sam suggested, continuing out of the room. Dean followed, still fuming. Castiel and Isa were still standing in the entryway, his arm wrapped around her.  
“If we’re any bother, we can find another place to stay…” Castiel offered. Dean shook his head, holding out a hand.  
“You’re not a bother at all. We’ve got plenty of extra room. Follow me and I’ll show you a room,” Dean instructed. He turned and started down the hall, Castiel followed and Isa trailing behind him. Dean counted the doors, all of them thick cherry wood, and turned the knob on the one what was empty. There was a window and a bed and a shelf of books, along with a mirror and a dresser and a bathroom with marble floors. Isa’s eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped.  
“Sir…” she started, scanning the room another time with her wide brown eyes.   
“Please, call me Dean.” He opened the door wider, gesturing for the two to enter. Castiel looked at Isa before leading her in.  
“Thank you, Dean Winchester,” Castiel sighed, smiling at Dean. Dean nodded. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Isa shiver. He looked over to her.  
“You alright?” he asked. Isa looked up at him, confused.  
“I’m… I am quite alright, si- Dean,” she assured him. Dean shook his head, holding up a finger.  
“I’m sure Lisa’s left something here. Let me get the both of you something to wear, alright? You’re both dirty.”  
Before either Isa or Castiel could protest, Dean had spun around and made his way for his own room, only a few doors down. He swung the door open, making a beeline for his dresser. He pulled open the drawer that Lisa kept her things in, trying to find a pair of pajamas. The only thing he could find was a set of silk pajamas, black with peach colored flowers stitched into them. The top was the same pattern. Dean tossed them onto the bed and searched for something to give Castiel. He grabbed a blue shirt and red and gray striped pants. Of course they didn’t match, nothing Dean ever grabbed the first time around matched.   
He gathered the clothes in his arms and carried them back to the room he’d let Castiel and Isa borrow. He knocked on the closed door, and Isa opened it.   
“I brought you two some clothes. You can set your dirty ones outside the door and I can wash them. I assure you, it’s not to much,” Dean told her. Isa nodded slowly, taking the clothes from him.  
“T-Thank you,” Isa replied softly, stepping back into the room.  
“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” Dean blurted. Isa looked up quickly and plastered a fake smile on her face.  
“I’m not, Mister Winchester. Just a bit nervous. Most people still think I should be a slave,” she sighed, looking down. Dean nodded, slowly.  
“I don’t know either you or Castiel very well, but I think you’re both lucky to have each other,” Dean said, smiling. Isa flushed and nodded before shutting the door. Dean leaned back against the opposing wall waiting for Isa or Castiel to set their bloody clothes on the floor so Dean could wash them before he went to bed.   
Finally, after what seemed like forever, Castiel opened the door, his hair wet and Dean’s pajamas sticking to him. He had a handful of dirty, muddy, bloody clothes, and he nervously handed them to Dean.  
“Thank you for your generosity, Dean Winchester. I am sorry for interrupting your night,” Castiel apologized. Dean shook his head.  
“No biggie, Castiel. It was a pleasure to meet you,” Dean said, shaking Castiel’s hand for the second time that night. Castiel shut the door without another word, and Dean carried their laundry to the laundry room.   
Sam was leaning against a wall by the kitchen, slowly drinking a fourth of a cup of wine from a green china teacup.   
“Really?” Dean asked, staring from the tiny cup, which looked even smaller in Sam’s grip, to his brother’s face, then back to the cup. “We’ll be dry in a week if you keep drinking that, and I don’t feel like going to see Benny anytime soon.”  
Sam laughed and raised an eyebrow, his eyes landing on the pile of bloody clothes in Dean’s arms.  
“Like you’re any better, Mister Hospitality. Are you their bitch now? Should I get you an apron and some high heels?” Sam queried. Dean rolled his eyes and continued into the laundry room, tossing the clothes into the washing machine.  
“Laugh at me all you want, Sam, but I’m doing the best I can to be nice to them. Good karma and all of that shit.”  
Sam stood in the doorway to the laundry room. He had left his teacup of wine in the kitchen.  
“Is that the stuff that Lisa’s getting you into?” he asked. Dean pressed a few buttons and faced Sam, his face showing no emotion.   
“Lisa’s not getting me into anything,” Dean grunted, pushing past his brother and stomping towards his room.  
“She’s gonna get you in trouble,” Sam called after him. “You know her parents don’t like you.”  
Dean turned around to face his little brother. “What’s it to me? Parents have never stopped me before,” he replied. Before Sam could make another point, Dean finished his angry walk to his bedroom. He shut the door behind him and threw himself into his chair, grabbing his pipe and lighting it. He held the wood to his lips and inhaled, staring up at the ceiling.  
“So her parents don’t like me,” Dean mocked. “I’ll find a way around it. I always have, always will.”  
He blew a ring of smoke towards the ceiling and shut his eyes tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aah! So this took maybe all of a week, so there definitely won't be a regular posting schedule on this one like there (kind of) is with Vigilantes.   
> I'm super excited about this one because astronomy and romance mix really well. I'd like to make it clear that this is set in the 1920s, which will explain Sammy drinking 1/4 of a cup of WINE and Dean getting pissy about it, and also the KKK (which will barely be mentioned at all after this chapter). For anyone who didn't understand anything, message me or comment, and I'll be glad to clear things up!  
> Till next time!


End file.
